


Inhale.

by CivilDisobedience



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Smut, F/M, Feisty Piper, Hopefully Happy Ending?, Minor Violence, PTSD, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-07-29 20:06:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7697758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CivilDisobedience/pseuds/CivilDisobedience





	1. Chapter 1

Inhale. _1..2..3.._ Exhale. _Fuck, that’s smooth. Hancock outdid himself on this batch._

Jeremiah sat, limbs sprawled and nearly gooified, in the Old State House. _Fuck, why does the couch feel this amazing?_ He slid further into the couch, one leg kicked up on the cushions, taking up any available space that wasn’t absorbed by his gun. His normal leather jacket was thrown onto the coffee table, and he heard Hancock laugh. 

“Might want to take it easy on the chems, man. They can do some pretty wild things,” the ghoul spoke, settling down on the couch in front of the man. _No kidding. Shit._ Jeremiah swung his head, eyes locking onto the leathery man as he took hold of a fresh inhaler. The ride was much shorter for him, of course because of the natural metabolism of ghouls. Jeremiah was still riding his high while Hancock took to another inhaler. The sound of boots stomping and a woman’s voice is what made his head swing towards the doorway. 

“Blue! What the fuck?” Her voice was demanding, even though Jeremiah knew it wasn’t a question. The woman, _Piper’s a doll_ , stomped towards the ghoul mayor. “What the Hell, Hancock? I asked you to help him, not get him doped up again! Fuck this place,” her teeth ground while spewing the last comment, grabbing his leather jacket off the table and then his hand. “Come on, Blue, let’s get going.” _Boy. What a buzz kill._ Jeremiah wasn’t sure if she was trying to help him stand or drag him down the stairs, but the further from the couch they got, he assumed the latter. 

“Piper, knock it off,” he finally managed as they got to Goodneighbor’s gate. “I’m just.. Trying to relax, you know?” Jeremiah straightened, pulling his hand gently from the woman and then his leather jacket. As he slid it on, and only stumbled once, he heard her sigh. 

“I know you are, but this isn’t the way. You don’t need that shit in your system. We can always get a beer, but being a dope head won’t do either of us good.” _Fuck. I hate when she’s right._ “Where’s your gun, Jer?”

“Uh.. I um.. State House?”

“Ugh. Okay. I’ll be right back. Sit on that bench and wait for me.” she ordered and walked off, mumbling something about babysitting. 

Jeremiah figured he pissed off the dragon enough and sat on the bench like commanded. It felt weird not having his trusty sniper rifle, Monster, along his back. I guess a combat knife strapped to his left thigh was as good as it got at the moment. 

Jeremiah could feel the second the jet wore off. A rush set through his veins, and when eagerly grabbing for his MIA gun, panic fully struck. In front of Kill or Be Killed was not the best place to have an attack, especially with three neighborhood watchmen all too eagerly pointing their gun at him, yelling to settle down. 

Piper came down the steps, after ripping Hancock a new one, to hear scuffling and yelling. When she burst through the doors, the sight before was an interesting one - Jeremiah on the ground as if he were a criminal, pinned by two of the watchmen. Piper rushed over, shouting above the men’s orders, to get all their attentions. 

“What the FUCK did I miss? I was gone for five minutes?” 

One of the men raised from holding Jeremiah, but still aimed his gun for his back. “This fucking nut job attacked us. He’s lucky he’s Hancock’s buddy, or we would have put a bullet in him the first second. I still kind of want to,” he grinned, stabbing Jeremiah in the back with the barrel. _Wrong._ With only one watchmen holding him and being distracted, Jer was easily able to swing an arm free and take the man down. They practially swapped positions, except the watchmen was on his back, while Blue pulled the knife from his thigh. 

“Blue!” Piper wailed, launching forward to knock him off the man. Usually she let him work through his fits on raiders, but this was too far. The knife slipped from his hand as Piper straddled his legs, gripping his face. The two watchmen scrambled to grab the knife and hold down his arms. “Jeremiah. Listen to me. This isn’t the war, and you’re okay.” Her tone had drastically changed from the harsh, demanding mom to a soft, caring one. 

Slowly his heart rate fell back to normal with the help of Piper’s constant coos and pets, and Jeremiah clenched his eyes. “I want to go home..” She smiled at this and laid one peck on his sweat-drenched forehead.

“Let’s go, Blue. Get off him, boys,” she ordered, climbing off her companion and outstretching a helping hand. He happily took it as soon as the watchmen released him, and headed to where she had dropped Monster. A small crowed had gathered, obviously due to the commotion, and she saw Blue’s eyes begin to get shifty. Piper strolled over, casually unholstering her pipe pistol and waving it, “Get the fuck outta here you moochers!”

Once outside the gate, and of course after apologizing to the lit Hancock, Piper took quickly to the man’s side. She wasn’t good at fighting, but the ex-soldier really didn’t mind. He handled it for both of them easily. 

“Hey,” he began cautiously, and Piper sensed something automatically. His once cold, green eyes were filled with something.. Something she couldn’t pinpoint. “I wanna apologise. Sometimes I can’t help it, and something just goes wrong,” he continues slowly. 

“Don’t worry about it. Everyone has their baggage. This is what friends are for, right?” Even though she smiled, Jeremiah couldn’t help but wish she would leave, only so he couldn’t hurt her. But he smiled in return, and just breathed. Inhale _1.. 2.. 3.._ Exhale.

As Sanctuary Hills appeared in the horizon, Jeremiah straightened up. His sniper rifle that had hung in a lazy grip through most of their trip was now slung over his shoulder, and Piper heard him sigh. Preston greeted the pair, and proceeded to fill the General in on the latest goes-ons. 

_Surprise, another settlement needs help..Useless pieces of s-_ “Blue?” Piper had cut off his thoughts, thank god, and when he looked to her, she had the kindest look on her face. Damn those eyes.

“What?”

“Let’s go rest, yeah? You look worn out,” the woman smirked, grabbing his hand and leading him towards his pre-war home. She always took such good care of him. 

About an hour later, Jeremiah rolled off the woman, and she attached herself to his side in the small bed. They weren’t lovers, no, only friends with benefits if anything. She took care of him, and he took care of her. Everyone needs someone. Jer reached over and grabbed the pack of cigarettes he kept by the bed, naturally offering one to the woman as well. When she declined, he lit one and brought it to his lips. Inhale. _1.. 2.. 3.._ Exhale. 

“Listen, Jer,” she began, a hint of something he couldn’t describe in her voice. “You’ve seemed really out of it, lately. I think you should rest here for a while. Let Preston deal with the Minutemen, and you focus on getting.. more sane.” The way she curled herself into his side more, and wrapped an arm around his chest to squeeze him sent a chill down his spine. Piper stared up at him, her brown eyes nearly pleading. 

Jeremiah nodded. 

She cracked a smile, squeezing him a little tighter in a side hug. “I’m glad you agree. I’m actually going to head to Diamond City and pick up my sister. I want her to live in Sanctuary from now on. I don’t trust that mayor..” she hissed the ending. 

“When are you leaving?” 

“I’d like to leave tonight, if that was okay,” she spoke, her gaze never leaving his face. It might have sounded like a question, if he was going to allow her to leave, but Piper wouldn’t have anyone tell her what to do. So again, Jeremiah nodded. 

That night Piper left for Diamond City. Jeremiah escorted her to the bridge, allowing her to ramble on the plan for the fourth time that evening. It made her happy to talk. At the bridge, she dropped her pack and flung herself onto the man, arms wrapping tightly around his neck in a hug. It caught him off guard, but he was able to compensate his quietness of the evening with a squeeze to her waist. Piper pecked him on the cheek before letting go. A small tint of red had graced her face.

“I need you to take care, Blue. I’ll only be gone a few days.” He nodded.

The next morning, around 0500 hours, Jeremiah laced his boots and grabbed his sniper rifle. Of course a sawed off double barrel shotgun was also slung over his shoulder, and a knife strapped to his thigh. And multiple grenades hooked to a belt around his hips. And probably countless more in his backpack. But he was ready. Monster rarely spent time slung over his shoulder, so when he walked out of the house, she was gripped tightly across his chest. Preston noticed Jeremiah, and jogged over. 

“General? Where are you going? Piper had sai-” the man began, but was cut off by a wave of Jer’s hand. 

“Fuck that. I’m going out. A week ago you said something about the Combat Zone, so I’m going to take care of some business,” he spoke, his expression hard and determined. Preston knew not to fight with the General – he was stubborn. Jeremiah gave another wave of his hand, this time in a goodbye, and began down the street and over the bridge. 

Nothing happened through most of his trip. He stopped at the Diner convenient store and talked to the woman, selling her a bit of scraps he’d found for some more shotgun shells. And an old Gunner’s uniform for a roll of duct tape and combat knife. She was bitter – rambling the whole time about Chemheads and how a dealer named WolfGang had gotten her son addicted to jet. As if to make a point, she nodded towards the opposite side of the Diner where he son sat shivering in a corner. _Poor kid. That’s why you don’t fuck with drugs._ Jeremiah briefly thought of his encounters with jet and shivered. He really needed to listen to Piper more. After shoving his newly purchased shit into his backpack, he tossed an addictol on the counter and nodded to him. 

“It’ll help. I promise.” The woman looked stunned, probably by how much they cost and that he was just giving her one. 

“Thank.. you,” she whispered, picking up the tube and scuttling to her son. Jeremiah vanished out the door. 

By nightfall, he had cleared out a super mutant nest and was bunkering down in one of the bedrooms of the half-collapsed buildings. One of the mutants had gotten him in the shin pretty decently with a board that had a huge fucking nail sticking out of it. _Hello tetanus._ But a stimpak fixed that right up. Jeremiah laid back on the bedroll he’d tossed on the floor, staring up at the moldy ceiling. He knew he was somewhere along the outskirts of Diamond City, and thought about visiting Piper. _No. She’d rip my head off if she knew I had left._

Arching his hips off the bed allowed him to slide his wallet out from his back pocket. No one carried a wallet anymore, but it was something he’d done all his life and couldn’t seem to shake, and it reminded him of better days. Inside the slot was nothing more than a few prewar bills and a business card from the VaultTech Rep. But held in the plastic protector hooked to the slot was a family portrait. Nora, Shawn, him, and even their dog. It was take a few months after Shawn was born, and Jeremiah smiled. He ran his finger along the edge of the picture, as if feeling the memory itself. 

_Oh, that day was amazing. A picnic in the park, Nora taking pictures with her Polaroid, blinding Lassie with the flash. Shawn wouldn’t eat his mushed carrots, but devoured the applesauce in no time. Can’t say I blame him, that shit was gross to look at. As the sun started setting, Nora folded up the blanket and I put Lassie’s leash on her. Nora waved the new stack of photos towards me and I picked my favorite – the one that had been shot with the timer so all of us were involved._

Jeremiah shook his head, rolling over to slide his wallet back into his pocket. No use thinking about the past. He fell asleep shortly after, Monster curled tightly in his arms.


	2. Chapter 2

By midday, Jeremiah was at Good Neighbor. Well, rounding the alleyway corners and shuffling away from super mutants by Good Neighbor. He was nearly out of bullets for Monster, and taking them head on with a sawed off double barrel didn’t sound all too appealing. So, his military training kicked in and helped him avoid the green freaks by sneaking through cars. 

The Combat Zone was advertised along walls with arrows pointing down a winding alleyway. In such a tight space, Monster would’ve been useless anyways, so Jeremiah swung out his shotgun and slid in two shots. He creeped down the alley, watching one hopped out raider fuck with his pitiful pipe pistol. _This’ll be easy.._ Jer snuck up behind the man ever so slowly, crouched and just on the nearside of the shadow with his knife pulled. The Raider - apparel a bullet sponge by the way he stared down his pipe pistol’s barrel, murmuring about it being jammed – didn’t even hear Blue step up behind him. He only noticed something was amiss when Jer grabbed his head, shoving it forward while he dug the knife into the raider’s neck. He eased the man onto the ground, watching him gurgle and twist at his feet before ultimately going silent. _Fuck. Does it ever get easier?_

A few more Raiders passed that way until Jeremiah peaked around a corner to see a small group of them. He sighed, swinging out his shotgun and rounding the corner. Being stealthy was never an option with a shotgun. 

The Raiders didn’t really process what was going on apparently as Jeremiah approached them. They turned to face him, one in the middle of a wave right before Blue crammed his combat knife into the raider’s neck. With two shells already loaded, he swung around to face the other three. One fumbled for his pipe rifle as the other two easily had out their pistols and began a frenzied spray of bullets. One managed to bury itself into his right shoulder, which made Jer grunt and hipfire a round into the man’s chest. Another round landed in the rifle-toter’s face which shut his nervous threats up real fast. The final man’s pipe pistol ran out of ammo as Jer stalked towards him, one arm limp but the shotgun gripped tightly in his left hand. The Raider managed to worm a knife out of his boot right as Jer landed a solid crack onto the top of his head, using his shotgun almost as a club. Down he went into the dirt and Jeremiah gave him another hard crack. _Fucking stay down._

He slumped outside of the Combat Zone’s doors, cracking open a water can and shoving a stimpak into his shoulder. The bullet was still lodged, but he’ll have the doc cut him open at a later point. If there is a later point, that is. Jeremiah sipped the water and counted how many shells he had left. 40. That’ll be plenty, not like he’ll actually use the shotgun anyways. Gently he tucked Monster next to some tires at the doorway. _I’m commin’ back for you._ He grabbed his knife from the Raider’s throat and headed through the double doors.

Oh my fuck there was a lot of them. No one had really heard Blue walk in, and in the shadows he looked just like them anyways, which was kind of sad. He put away the shotgun, opting for knife. On the makeshift platform nearest to the door sat two Raiders – one woman and one man from the looks of it – which he proceeded towards still hidden in the shadows.

“That redheaded bitch was great in the fight, huh,” commented the male Raider. 

“What, better than me?” The woman questioned in return, obviously a Psychotic from her outfit. 

“No, babe, never,” he hurriedly spat. 

“Don’t think I ain’t see your ass talkin’ to her at the bar!” The woman smacked him in the back of the head, which made him turn in his seat to face her. Out of the corner of his eye he must have seen Blue.

“Marcus get the fuck outta here,” he hissed, spinning around entirely to face him when Jer didn’t move. “What the..” On that note, Jeremiah lodged his knife into the Raider’s throat. The woman wailed, watching her apparent lover begin to gurgle. She didn’t rush to pull out her gun as much as Jeremiah thought she would, so he quickly yanked the knife from the man and dove towards her. 

Natural instinct must have kicked in, because she dodged rather fast into a small roll across the floor. By the time she pulled her tire iron, however, Jeremiah had already closed the distance on her. She was rather small, so her horizontal swing landed right in his gut and ripped a thick gash into his stomach. _Bitch had it covered in blades.._

“Hah! Fuckin’ scavver,” the woman hissed, stalking towards Jeremiah who had wandered back a few feet. “You’ll get yours now, asshole.” She wound up for another blow to his stomach, but didn’t expect him to drop suddenly and sweep out her feet with his leg. Jeremiah groaned, clutching at his stomach as blood seeped through his fingers, coating his leather jacket in stickiness. He leaned forward towards the woman whom was rolling on the floor and lodged the knife into chest. She let out a blood curdling wail, which Jeremiah silenced by covering her mouth with his bloody hand. _Shut the fuck upppp._ When she finally finished screaming, he twisted the knife and pulled it out quickly. 

He ripped open his leather jacket, wincing at the fabrics rubbing against the gouged flesh. _Fuck._ Jer whipped out a stimpak and shoved it in three areas down his gut. _Didn’t hit anything vital, thank Jesus. Or Satan._ He watched the flesh sew itself back together before he threw back a bottle of water. _Let’s get this shit over with._

Everyone along the balconies were taken out swiftly by Jeremiah’s combat knife. As he begun down the steps towards the main floor, he unloaded his shotgun and put in two shells. _Let’s party._ A warm gun always brought happiness to him, not to sound mushy over the Beatles or something. Jeremiah casually stepped onto the main floor, no one really paying attention to the man until a round was blasted into the back of a sitting Raider’s head. 

 

It was a relatively fast battle due to the speed Jer could reload his shotgun. Boom. Boom. Reload. Two more dead Raiders littered the floor. By the time the last Raider body hit the floor, he was a shittin’ mess. His hair a slicked back mess on top, from sweat or blood he doesn’t know yet, cuts lining his leather jacket, and blood splattered all over his clothing. 

Jeremiah put two more slugs into his shotgun as he heard a man’s voice suddenly. _Fuck, left one alive._

“Hey, are you done tearing the place up? We were rooting for you the entire time, come up here and talk peacefully!” He glanced around, not seeing anything up in the balconies. “On the stage, genius,” the voice called out again, hint of a snarl.

“Tommy, fuckin’ be nice, the man has a gun,” a woman snapped. She had an Irish accent, which now a’days was rare.

Jeremiah ignored his tone for now, stalking up the stage to meet the pair. The man was crouched down, an obvious ghoul, and the woman stood proudly. Though, he did not put away his weapon. “What?”

“What do you mean ‘what?’” the ghoul hissed. “You shot up my bar and got rid of all of my business. It’s going to take years to fix all of that.”

Jeremiah shrugged. “Well, what do you want me to do about it? Go Frankenstein and make those bitches live again just so you can earn a few caps?” 

“No, of course not, that’s way above your intelligence level,” the ghoul remarked. 

Jeremiah quickly raised his shotgun and grinned, barrels aimed right for his chest. “I’m tired of your ass already. Give me one reason not to kill you.” The woman, however, did not seem moved by this in the slightest. 

“Hey, hey, okay don’t shoot. I’m sorry man. How about.. How about you take Cait here?” Jeremiah’s eyebrow arched.

Cait did a double take towards the Ghoul, mouth slightly ajar. “What the fuck, are ye givin’ me away? I’m not a gun Tommy.”

“What do you mean, ‘take Cait.’ She’s not your property. I’ll happily take her along if she wants some way out of this shithole and far away from you, though.”

“Well,” the man started, “I own her contract. I can give her to whomever I want and she’ll have to do it. Hah! But anyways, please, take her off my damn hands. I can’t afford to keep her now that you shot up my business.”

Jeremiah looked towards Cait, the same eyebrow arched in question. When she nodded in almost a desperate fashion, Blue smirked at the man. “Yeah. I’ll take it.”


	3. Chapter 3

The Duo walked out the Combat Zone double doors casually. Jeremiah had looted everything of use from the dead bodies, and maybe scooped up a few of Tommy’s belongings in the process.. Whoops. Cait was hauling a full load in her pack from all the bodies. Jeremiah scooped up Monster from behind the tires and they kept on walking. 

Every dead body Cait passed with the man made her question everything about him. So she finally had to ask. “What’s ya’ deal, huh? All the dead bodies, how’d ya’ manage them all?”

Jeremiah glanced towards her, monster hanging lazily in his hands. “A sharp knife and appearance of belonging. And sometimes luck.” _Most of the time luck._ She nodded, apparently satisfied with the question.

A few moments later they were in Good Neighbor. Jeremiah holstered Monster and headed straight for the assaultron ‘woman’ and began to unload the shit he picked up. He motioned for Cait to dump her items on the counter, and she hesitated. 

“I think,” she began almost cautiously, but then decided to play it strong, “I think if ye’ be havin’ me travel with you, I should get to have some real armor. Like some offa’ the dead raiders.” Jeremiah shrugged at her request, and Cait took it as a sign to withhold everything she wanted. 

The assaultron ‘woman’ handed over a good lump of caps to the duo, which Jer smiled at. “Wanna go visit my friend?” _Wanna go get high?_

They ended up at Hancock’s house. Cait was spread over most of the couch, limps flopped uselessly and only allowing Jeremiah part of the cushion for himself. He didn’t seem to mind, however, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. _Damn, Jet’s amazing._ Three canisters of Jet had been demolished between the two of them – Cait taking most of it. _Piper would be pissed.._ Hancock was in his own little world, laid out on the couch across from them with his tricorn covering his face, laughing quietly. 

It was all fun and games until Fahrenheit came in, shooting the duo out with a baseball bat covered in razorblades. _‘The mayor has work to do’ my ass._ Lighten up. Nevertheless, their high had run out so it was time to hit the road. Or the hotel. 

Seeing as how it was practically midnight, Jeremiah opted for a hotel. “We’ll be sharing one, Cait. All of my caps are needed elsewhere. You can sleep in the bed.” Cait gave him a side glance as he paid for the room. When they walked up the steps and finally ended up in the room, she threw her bag down. 

“What’s yer’ fuckin’ deal?” the redhead snapped. Jeremiah didn’t seem phased at all, placing his stuff down gently on the floor. _Grenades in there._ “I’m talkin’ to you,” she called out once again. 

“My deal about what exactly?” Jer sat down in the chair next to the bed, unlacing his boots. Still, he wouldn’t give her his full attention, and it made Cait slightly mad. 

“Why are ye’ bein’ so fuckin’ nice to me? Spendin’ caps on me, lettin’ me have what I want. Hell, even lettin’ me have tha’ bed? What’s the catch?” Cait appeared in front of Jeremiah, staring down. When he finished unlacing his boots, he only rested his elbows on his knees and stared up at her. 

“Is it so wrong to have a little bit of hospitality for someone I’m hoping will save my ass? Why would I not give my battle partner a set of armor? And her own bed? I’m not a douche,” he said calmly, continuing to stare at her. 

Cait tried to stare him down, but Jer’s icy green eyes made her turn away. “Thank you,” she mumbled. “But if I so much as feel yer’ eyes on me tonight, I’ll pound ye.”

“Understood,” he grunted, cracking a smile. Jeremiah took the bedroll from his backpack and spread it onto the floor. He sat cross-legged, back to the woman, on the padding and peeled off his jacket, inspecting all of its holes. Finally with a huff, he crumpled it up and used it as a pillow. Cait had left everything on, including her boots, when she laid down on the bed. But she watched his every movement. “Oh, and, please don’t steal my shit in the middle of the night. Thanks in advance.”

Cait should have been insulted, but it was a reasonable suspicion. “No promise, sweetheart.” 

At 0600, Jeremiah was awake and packed, nodding at the sleeping woman’s side. When she jumped, wielding a knife from fuck knows where, he stepped back. “Easy.. Time to head out.”

They waved goodbye at the gate to Good Neighbor and set out to the streets. “Where we goin’?” Cait finally chimed about an hour into their trip. Jeremiah was fiddling with his map, looking up and checking over his shoulder every so often. _Damn Mirelurks setting off my compass alerts.._

“We’re going to Sanctuary Hills, where I live,” he stopped looking at the map finally, eyes catching hers. “I figured anything to get you away from that ghoul..”

“Thank ye’ for that by the way. He was kind’a’ dick.”

“I figured,” Jeremiah stated, continuing to walk. Cait scurried to catch up with his long strides. “Used you to fight.”

Cait didn’t reply to him, only followed along silently. 

Jeremiah and Cait settled down a few hours later on a bench. Nothing important had happened through their travels except for the slaughter of a pack of wild dogs. _Oh well, more food for us._ He swung his pack off, planting it on the ground between his feet and began to dig. The ‘ah-hah’ moment was him pulling out two canisters of jet, turning to smirk at her. “Wanna relax a bit?”

Cait’s eyes traced the canister before meeting the man’s own eyes. She smirked somethin’ fierce. “Thought ye’d never fuckin’ ask!”

It was a risk to lay jellified out in the open, but it was almost dark and this was a safe part of the wooded area. By the AM’s they’d be back in Sanctuary if they decided to walk into the night. Cait agreed to the plan. 

The jellification was quickly lived, and the duo began walking. Jeremiah clicked his pipboy light on, and in the dead of night, Cait cringed from the green spray from it. It wasn’t the safest plan, but it was better to sleep home than anywhere else. Monster was useless at this time of night, so he pulled out his double barrel shotgun. Cait had her own double barrel, a much more impressive model too. 

The only thing that really bothered the pair was a couple bloatflies which were easily taken down with the butt of Jeremiah’s shotgun and a blast or two from Cait’s. The innards were taken. “I swear,” Jeremiah spoke, his tone low, “My pal Deacon claims this is the best tasting food out in the wastes. Well.. I mean, he is a pathological liar, so he could be fucking with me..”

Cait stifled a giggle. “Darlin’, I think he be fuckin’ with ya’. Those taste like ass.”

“Oh.. Well.. I’ll just cook it for him as a gift. A dinner date, maybe,” he smirked, glancing towards her. The pipboy light shone around them as if they had a lantern, which made it easy to see each other. “You can join us, of course.”

“An’ interrupt a bromance date? I think not,” this time she did laugh. _What a cute sound for such a vicious woman._

“No, no, it’s not like that,” Jeremiah quickly retorted as they walked over the bridge to Sanctuary. “It’s.. Ah, fuck it, yeah he’s my best friend.”

Cait paused right over the bridge, her eyes taking everything in. There was power. There was beautifully made houses. There was.. Plants, and water pumps along the river. There was hope. 

Jeremiah waited for her to finish taking everything in. She locked gaze with him, a dopey smile on her face. “What the fuck is this place?”

“Sanctuary Hills. I live here.”

“Since when? I’vent even heard of this place before,” she spun in a small circle, looking over everything once more. 

_Since 200 years ago._ “Since the Minutemen needed somewhere to go, and this place seemed doable to make better. And.. We made it a lot better,” Jeremiah smirked at her, reaching out to tug at her arm gently. “You haven’t seen anything yet. I’ll show you around in the morning if you want.” Cait followed the tug, which he lead her into his home. Again, he graced her with the bed and took to the couch in the living room. “Don’t worry. You’re safe here.”


	4. Chapter 4

Cait woke the next morning to smell something fuckin’ amazing cooking. The previous night she didn’t even bother to take her boots off, so she rolled out of bed and walked out towards the living room. The thought that a place like this even exists makes her believe she’s hallucinating the entire ordeal. That she was just knocked unconscious in the Combat Zone and is having an amazing dream. Jeremiah stood in the kitchen, something delicious sizzling on the stove before him. Cait couldn’t really pick out what was in fact cooking because the man whom owned this house decided to walk around in nothing but his fucking boxers. 

Jeremiah glanced over his shoulder at her. “It’s bloatfly, actually. In case you were wondering.” She thought about replying, but her mouth just wouldn’t cooperate. “Sit,” he commanded. So she did. Jeremiah plopped a plate of the bloatfly..steak? down in front of her. “I already had mine, and it doesn’t taste bad at all. I guess he wasn’t lying for once..” he trailed off. 

He sat across from her at the table, occasionally making comments about the settlement as she ate. He informed her about the power, and how long it took to actually come up with all of it.. How Sturges was an amazing handyman, and how Mama Murphy has the best drug supply in town somehow. 

After a long moment of silence, Jeremiah spoke, “You can stay if you want.” 

“What do ye’ mean ‘if I want?’ You own my contract, I follow you.” Her eyebrow arched.

“I’m not into the whole ‘slavery’ thing, Cait. You do what you want, when you want, and can even take that stupid piece of paper with you. You can leave, or you can stay. All your choice,” he smiled, attempting at sincere, at her. 

“If it’s a choice ye’ really givin’ me,” she began slowly, “I’d like’a few days to think it through. Maybe see the place a bit more.”

“No problem. If you want me to join you, just let me know,” he asked, rising up from his seat and heading off into the bedroom. A few moments later Cait thanked her lucky stars because he came out dressed. “If you want, we can wash up your clothes here.”

“Oh, and leave me bareass to the world?” She smirked as a light shade of pink began across his face. ‘Where the fuck has he been hiding that scar,’ she thought. Her eyes trailed down the deep pink wound that ran the entire length of his face, grazing right over his eye. She almost didn’t hear him reply. 

“No, no, I mean.. I have some dresses in there. Unless you want to wear pants or something, because I have those too, but I just..” he rambled on, and Cait just grinned wider the more flustered he got. 

“I know what ye’ mean. I’d like to wash my clothes, ya’.”

He huffed a breath of relief. _This fucking girl.._ But couldn’t help cracking a smile. “Okay, clothes are in the dresser, take whatever you want. I’ll go check up on my general shit.”

A moment later, she walked outside the house dressed in a tied up white t-shirt and some leather pants, which she assumed had belonged to a raider woman. Cait spotted Jeremiah over by a suit of power armor, talking to a guy holding a laser rifle. He looked like a bad cowboy reenactor. Her double barrel was slung over her shoulder as she headed to the pair. 

Jeremiah turned slightly to watch her walk over and smirked. “This is Cait, Preston.”

“How do you do, Ma’am,” he nodded, extending his hand to shake hers. She hesitantly shook back, recoiling a step or two afterwards. “General here has told me a lot about you, all of it good. I hope you’ll be staying with us.” He was trying to sound sincere, she could tell, but wasn’t buying any of his shit. 

“I might, I dunno quite yet.” 

“Uh, Preston, why don’t you set up a report for me,” Jeremiah requested. “I need to know if anything’s changed the last few days I was gone.”

“Right away, Sir.” The man disappeared into the house that held the power armor station. Cait peaked inside the window briefly, noticing a whole set up of almost an office area. 

“Well that’s a fancy lil’ setup ye’ got goin’ in there,” she commented.

“That’s our Minutemen office. Preston and I are the only ones usually allowed in there unless a dire emergency happens. The Minutemen set up is the Castle, but.. I don’t want to live there.”

“Why not? It sounds pretty glorious, ya’ know, a castle an’all.”

“I’ve spent enough time on and next to a sea,” was all he replied before setting off opposite the building. Cait followed. 

“In that building,” he waved to a flat metal building, "Is where we have our crafting stations. Feel free to use any you want. In that one,” again he waved to a building, but it looked like a wood cabin, “We have the rec hobbies. Billiards, weights, and a juke box.. Basically a chill out station.”

Cait continued following him, only noticing the brief glances from locals. “Every family has their own house. Some decided to share a house, however, so you can pick anywhere that’s open if you do want to stay. You can also hang out with me for a while, since I have a spare room.”

They began to walk towards his home, and she finally spoke up. “Why are ye’ doin’ all this for me, Jere?”

“Everyone needs someone, Cait. You’re a good person, I can tell, and sometimes people need a little help. That’s what I’m here for.” 

She pondered this for a moment, looking up towards the man. ‘When did he get so tall,’ she thought. He must have been at least six feet, maybe over. Everyone now a’days was so small compared to him. A sudden yell caught her attention.

“Blue!” It was a little girl who ran up to him, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist. He grinned, patting her on the head.

“Hey, kiddo. What’s been happening?” A woman walked up to him and pecked him on the cheek in greeting. 

“Nothing really. I’m happy to be living here now, though, with you and Piper.” The little girl released him and he focused on the older woman. 

“How was the trip, Piper?”

“Look who’s talkative now. Maybe I should take vacations more often. It was fine, only one lone raider. A caravan was nearby, the guards handled it.”

“I’m glad. And uh,” Jeremiah shifted awkwardly, nodding towards Cait. “This is Cait. Maybe the newest member of Sanctuary. Cait, this is Piper and Nat.”

“Hi, Miss,” Nat commented, and Piper only nodded.

“Hello thar’.”

Piper began to push Nat towards the house which Cait and Jere were headed. “I’m going to get Nat set up in the room. And.. I’ll be waiting for you, Jer.” Across her face was a grin that Cait didn’t like. 

“Uh, Piper, about that,” he hesitated. “I thought you and Nat were getting your own house here.. So I already promised the room to Cait.” 

“Why would we get our own house, Jere?” Piper snapped, irritation flooding her voice. “You sick of having me around?”

“What? No, I mean.. I thought you’d want to settle down with someone, and you can’t really do that if you’re in my house..” Jeremiah’s voice trailed off in thought, and Piper stepped over to him. 

“I thought you and I were settling down? So what, she,” Piper waves towards Cait, “shows up and now you want nothing to do with me?” _Goddammit.._

“Ye’ be watchin’ how you talk to me, darlin’, if you know what’s good for ya’. Hate for ye’ to start somethin’ ya’ can’t finish,” Cait hissed, and Jeremiah groaned. 

“Listen, Piper, you and I are just friends.. I think you need your own space.”

“Okay.” Piper spoke, all too calmly. _Here comes the storm.._ “Nat, let’s go.” The sisters walked off towards one of the empty houses.

With that being over, for now, Jere and Cait walked inside. He shut the door calmly and headed for the ice box, grabbing two beers. Cait happily took one when offered, and they sat down on the couch. 

“She’s a pleasure,” Cait commented, and Jeremiah sighed. 

“She was when we first met. I’m not the settling down type anymore,” Jeremiah replied quietly. He squeezed his eyes together and downed half his beer. 

“Anymore?” Cait asked, knowing she shouldn’t. 

_Fuckfuckfuck. Might as well. It’ll have to come out one day._ “Yeah. Since my first wife passed, I don’t see myself settling down with anyone else.”

Cait shifted in her seat, obviously uncomfortable. “Sorry to ‘ere that, but it gets easier,” she lied. Nothing gets easier after that. 

For dinner the pair had even more bloatfly steaks. To her dismay, Jeremiah stripped his shirt as he washed dishes. But thankfully, he left his pants on until heading into the extra bedroom with the same bedroll he used when they were in the hotel. 

It was the middle of the night when Cait heard something creeping around the house. She hoped it was Jeremiah, but still cuddled her shotgun in bed just in case. A soft female voice and an all too familiar male voice echoed in the living room. Cait strained to listen.

“..and you don’t love me anymore?” Female.

“..you’re my friend, that’s all I can give you, please..” Male. Jeremiah.

“..It’s not enough, though, Blue,” Female. Piper. 

There was a small amount of shuffling until Jeremiah’s door closed again. ‘Good, she’s gone,’ Cait thought, rolling back over in her bed. Something about the woman royally pissed her off. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that the man who gave so much ran out of the ability to give, and she couldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. Cait’s theory of Piper leaving was dispelled by a soft woman’s voice and moan from beyond the doors. “You’re shittin’ me,” she hissed quietly, stuffing her face into the pillow.

Cait was woken this time by Jeremiah in the room. He paid her no attention, shuffling through the shit in his trunk and pulling out more ammo for Monster. 

“Good mornin’ to ya’ too,” she murmured, rubbing her palms into her eyes. 

“Sorry,” he commented, stuffing some shotgun shells into one pocket, and 50 cals in the other. He was dressed in full leather, spikes jutting from the shoulders and elbows. 

“Where ye’ goin’ off to? I wanna go shoot some stuff.” She hopped out of bed and laced up her boots, stretching her arms above her head in a dramatic stretch. 

Jere looked her up and down for a second, eyes lingering a little too long on the hip indents disappearing beneath the leather pants. She still wore his shirt. “I’m just going to.. go target practice. Keep up my skills. You can grab one of my extra snipers in the closet if you do wanna come. .308s are in the box next to them.” He slipped out of the room.

By the time Cait grabbed the gun and ammo and headed out the house, Jere was practically down the street. He did, however, stop and wait for her at the bridge. When she caught up, he pushed forward.

“Someone’s in’a rush to leave town,” she commented, and he only sighed. “What, did ya’ not sleep well?” At that last remark his eyes shone downwards, as if marking his footsteps along the pavement. 

“I slept fine, thanks.”

“Look ,it’s non’a my business, but it’s really not healthy.” 

Jeremiah nodded, glancing at her. “Wanna go relax?” Cait smirked.

Only moments later they were in an abandoned shack, empty jet inhalers surrounding them. “Jer,” she began slowly, “let’s get on the road again, ya? You seem happier then.”

“Yeah.”


	5. Chapter 5

By the time they made it back to Sanctuary Hills, it was midday. Cait opted for following around Jeremiah to pack their essentials. Equal amount in each bag in case one needs to get left behind. One can’t carry more important items than the other. They spread out everything on Jeremiah’s bed, unloading his last pack and refilling it. In about an hour, because Jeremiah liked to make sure everything was sealed and in a good place for safety reasons, they were done. He sat on the floor in the corner of the room after gathering up his sliced leather jacket and a small sewing kit. 

“The locals are probably partying in the rec house if you wanted to go,” he commented, focusing on threading the needle. She laughed quietly at his tongue dangling from his mouth.

“Nah. I’d rather be here with ya’,” Cait replied, and when he glanced at her, she continued, “Gotta know who I’m travelin’ with, ya’ feel?”

“Yeah. I feel you,” he crammed the thread into the eyelet of the needle and gave a dull ‘woo.’ 

Cait pushed aside the bags and plopped on the bed, eyeing him. She half busied herself with her shotgun, which she now realized had a small crack in the stock. “What’s a good way to fix a crack?”

“Fill that bitch up with wonderglue,” he commented, just before stabbing himself with the needle. “Son of a..”

“Do ye’ not know how to sew?”

“I had to learn in the military, but it’s been a few.. _hundred_ years.”

“Move yer’ ass,” she demanded, and wiggled down next to him. Automatically Cait took his jacket and began fixing it the right way. “Military. So is that where ye’ got that giant scar?”

Jeremiah exhaled out a laugh. “Yeah. My wife was so pissed when she heard about it..”

“Pissed? She wasn’t happy ye’ were fine?” Cait hissed. 

“I mean, yeah she was, but was more pissed that it happened I guess. I fell behind from my platoon when doing a land raid and got ganged up on a bit. I don’t blame them, they were busy with their own little fucks, but I just got the blunt of it,” he glanced at her with a smirk, tilting his head back against the wall. “I won, though. I always win a knife fight.”

“Impressive,” she commented, beginning to work on a rather large gut slice of the coat. “Didn’t seem to win this one, aye?” she referenced the heavy slice in the leather.

“No, I did. You’re with me, aren’t you?” Cait froze, and from how close they were sitting, Jeremiah could feel her tense up. “Sorry, that came out.. weird.” _Fuck._ Inhale. _1.. 2.. 3.._ Exhale.

“No, no, it’s fine, ya’ just caught me a bit off guard with that one,” Cait replied, finishing the last few stitches on the gash and inwardly smiling. She stood proudly once the piece was actually complete. “There, now ye’ can actually wear clothin’ around me. Not that I’m complaining.”

Staring up at the redhead was interesting. She was shorter than him, but still a decent height for a woman of these times. Hell, everyone now a’days was so much shorter except for her. Her body was a near perfect hourglass, dips of her thighs poking out a little above the leather pants. When she cleared her throat in the stereotypical ‘Ahem,’ his eyes darted up to her face. “I know I’mma dream, but focus,” she joked. _You have no idea._

“Thank you,” Jeremiah finally managed to spit out, rising up to take the coat from her. 

Cait plopped back on the bed as he set up an outfit – “it’s a uniform, I swear!” – for himself and folded her freshly washed clothes. “How’d ye’ get so tall?” 

This puzzled Jeremiah for a moment. _Maybe she’ll just think I’m joking.._ “I’m pre-war average size.”

“Well I know that pre-war people were tall! But how did ye’ get that way,” she pushed on.

“I just told you. I’m pre-war. I’m average,” Jeremiah sighed, turning to look at her after her clothes were nicely folded. She held this look of half disbelief and half total confusion. 

“Ye’ screwin’ with me,” she whispered, eyes locking onto his face.

_Ah, fuck it._ “Nope. I lived here with Codsworth, the dumb robot you see outside, 200 years ago. My wife and kid were with me when the bombs dropped, so we went to vault 111 which is just up a hill from here.” As if to prove his point more, Jeremiah took out his vault suit that was buried under absolutely everything in a trunk and threw it on her. Cait held the suit delicately, continuing to stare at him. “We were frozen the whole time, so basically I’m still 25! I mean, that’s a plus? More like 225, but yeah. Here I am. And honestly, this world can bite my ass,” he nodded at the statement.

Cait’s face now held the expression of what the fuck did I just hear. To prove even more to the woman that he wasn’t lying, he tossed his wallet onto the bed in front of her. It landed open, wielding the group picture. “Go ahead, look around,” Jeremiah urged. “All pre-war documents. Money. That picture was taken a few months after my son was born.”

“I.. Don’t know what to say to ya’. I mean, I wanna rush ya’ with questions, but that’d be rude of me,” Cait ran her finger over the picture just as Jeremiah had done days ago. She looked at the prewar bills, the Vault Tech Rep’s card, other little business cards, and scrap papers with numbers all over. “Why do all these cards and papers have numbers all over ‘em with a name?”

“Those are phone numbers,” Jeremiah clarified.

She focused again on the picture of the family in the park. “Is that Swan’s pond? The intact boats.. The trees are beautiful!” Cait’s smile at the picture made him smile. “Ye’ wife was quite the looker, too.”

“Yeah. Her name was Nora.”

“How was she killed?” He froze.

“We were unfrozen briefly in the vault,” Jeremiah began, hesitating. Inhale. “A guy took my kid from her hands and then shot her dead and refroze me. I’m going to kill him.”

Cait rose up from the bed, tossing the wallet onto the mattress. “I’m on ye’ side. Whatever you need. Let’s get that bastard.” He smiled. 

That night everyone played billiards in the rec house. A modified protection named Buddy walked around and served everyone beers and told bad jokes, but it made Jeremiah laugh. That’s all that began to matter to Cait. Jeremiah was sat next to Deacon at a homemade bar, talking about everything and anything. 

“Oh, by the way,” Jeremiah began, pausing to take a swig of his third beer, “Bloatfly tastes fucking great.”

“See! I wasn’t lying for once about that, buddy,” Deacon grinned, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. “Now, Ragstag is absolute shit. Don’t go near that.”

“I’ll try that for myself you dick.”

“Awh, such a cute pet name. I love you too baby!” Deacon yelled, making a few locals turn and give the pair a weird look.

“Ah shut up,” Jer grinned. “Now let’s go shoot some pool. Fifty caps says I’ll win.”

Deacon hopped from his chair, beer in hand, “I was captured by some raiders once. Only let me go when I beat them at pool. You’re on!”

“Shut up, you damn liar,” he grinned, sliding off the stool and following the man. Deacon racked up the balls, and Jeremiah took down two sticks from a nearby rack. Cait had been sipping a beer on the couch, until she decided to watch the game. 

“Are ther’ rules for this game?” When he nodded, she continued, “Will ya’ teach me?” Jeremiah grinned. 

“First rule, don’t listen to Deacon,” Jeremiah began, earning a disagreeing ‘hey!’ from the mentioned man. 

“That’s easy enough,” Cait commented, smirking at Deacon. 

“Second rule. Don’t hit anyone with the pool cue..” 

“Now yer’ just takin’ the fun outta it all.”

Jeremiah shrugged, continuing to go through the rules of pool. No one really knew the actual protocol anymore, so he was happy to bring some pre-war history into this settlement. Deacon and Jer began playing, racking up the balls. Some were missing, so they easily used duplicate numbers. Including two 8 balls. 

Cait watched Jeremiah and Deacon for a few turns before urging them to let her try. Jer was nice enough to hand her the pool cue and step from the table, watching as she bent along the table and angled the stick. He sighed, “no, you’re angling too much, make it flatter,” to which she tried. 

Cait resituated the cue multiple times to no avail, cursing loudly and slamming it on the table. “Why don’t ya’ fuckin’ show me then?”

Jeremiah handed her the cue and watched as she tried to get it right one last time. He slid up behind her, adjusting the pool stick. _Strictly business.._ Though, the way his breath cascaded down Cait’s shoulders left a small trail of goosebumps across her skin. When Jer finally moved away, the small tint of red Cait was sporting across her cheeks made him smirk. _Whoops._ But she struck the ball and ended up sailing one of the 2 balls into the corner pocket of the table. 

“See, in yer’ face ya’ fuckin’ spy,” she hissed towards Deacon with a grin. 

“Wait, what did I say?”

“Probably somethin’! So there, to prove ye’ wrong!”

Jeremiah lit up a cigarette, letting Cait play the rest of the game for him. She surprisingly won, which made him grin and slide a canister of Jet partially out of his pocket. He had to keep his drug habits on the downlow, especially being general of the Minutemen. “For the winner?” She smirked. 

The pair landed on the floor of his bedroom, side by side and leaning against the bed. Three canisters were thrown about the room, empty as their heads, and she sighed. “What was that all about?”

“When?” Jeremiah’s head lolled to the side to look at her, the feisty redhead. 

“With tha’ pool stick? Ya’ve never shown an interest in me like that,” Cait mumbled, only glancing over her shoulder to see him staring. Sometimes the jet made her paranoid. 

“Thought you wanted help?”

“That wasn’t all ye’ were doin’, Jer,” her head tilted back to rest along the bed. “You don’t carry a pistol, but somethin’ was jabbin’ at me,” Cait smirked towards him. 

He let out a bark of a laugh, mimicking the woman by resting his head on the mattress. “Don’t you even fuckin’ think,” Jer began, but was cut off by a peck on his cheek, that lead to a peck on his lips. A few seconds of her fiery kiss was ended by an abrupt bite to his bottom lip, and an automatic groan pouring from the man. Jeremiah hadn’t realized his eyes had even closed until he opened them to see her piercing green gems and a grin along her face. 

“I am a winner tonight, aren’t I?” 

_Fuck_


End file.
